


Secrets Revealed

by Telaryn



Category: Leverage, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Developing Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Secrets, Friends to Lovers, Headcanon Accepted, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 09:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9065539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: Written in an alternate crossover universe where Mr. Quinn is Isaac Lahey's missing older brother.  He returns to Beacon Hills, and after assessing the truth of Isaac's situation for himself, decides to call in a favor's he's owed from one Eliot Spencer.Problem is, there's something Quinn and Eliot haven't told each other.  Something werewolves can smell on a human.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seraphina_snape](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphina_snape/gifts).



> I am so glad you keep coming back to play with us, sera! I hope you enjoy this next installment of Quinn and Eliot's adventures in Beacon Hills.

_“You know he’s got the hots for you, right?”_

_Damn Isaac anyway,_ Quinn thought, rolling onto his back and trying to make peace with the idea that he wasn’t going to be getting a lot of sleep tonight. Right or wrong, and while he was ordinarily the last person to question a werewolf’s sense of smell Quinn couldn’t imagine a world in which Isaac’s assessment was anywhere close to the truth, his statement from the first night of Eliot’s visit kept crawling back into Quinn’s thoughts at inopportune moments.

To distract himself, he turned his focus to the dinner Eliot had arranged for tomorrow night - _tonight_? – with them and the Argents. Quinn had spent the last couple of weeks arranging to casually run into Chris Argent, establishing his presence in Isaac’s life. Eliot, on the other hand, had taken responsibility for tailing Gerard Argent – occasionally letting the old man know he was there, but more often than not just establishing his routine outside of family gatherings and obligations.

“Bastard’s got stamina – I’ll give him that,” Eliot had reported the night they decided to call for the summit. He’d watched Gerard maintain an effective surveillance on Scott McCall, Derek Hale, Lydia Martin, and Stiles Stilinski. “Best I can figure, he’s watching Stilinski because of his friendship with McCall. Otherwise the kid has nothing to recommend himself as a threat.” 

Isaac had been washing dishes, trying to look unobtrusive, and he’d actually snorted. “Don’t you have homework or something?” Quinn had asked – more out of desire to avoid his brother’s commentary on everything than any real belief that Isaac being out of his line of sight equaled privacy. 

“Spend ten minutes with Stiles, and then come back and tell me he has nothing to recommend himself as a threat,” had been his brother’s retort. “Trust me on this.” 

Eliot hadn’t argued – merely made a note on the spiral he carried with him. “Hey – far as I’m concerned, he’s the expert,” he’d protested, when Quinn had glared at him. “You know how valuable this kind of information is?” 

Quinn did know. He’d been studying up on the hunting community in his limited spare time, and knew that most of the available lore they operated on had been gleaned from trial and error and torture of any werewolf unlucky enough to survive their capture. Two nights ago he’d had a nightmare of Isaac being tortured by the Argents that was so graphic he’d woken up sweating and terrified. 

“I have to make him safe,” he’d told Eliot the next afternoon, after confessing the dream. “I’ve let him down in so many ways.”

They were eating in Beacon Hills’ local diner, and Quinn was startled when Eliot reached across the table and took his hand. “You need to calm down,” he’d said, catching Quinn’s gaze with his own. “We’re doing everything we can. You can’t keep beating yourself up over not being here.”

He’d needed to hear the words, but they’d looked into each other’s eyes long enough that feelings he didn’t need to be entertaining welled up inside him. Uncomfortable, he’d started to pull away, but a moment later Derek Hale entered the diner. Realizing why Eliot had moved the way he had, Quinn had forced himself to relax into the moment.

Remembering now, Quinn felt a pleasurable twisting in his groin. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to kiss anyone more in his life.

Groaning, he pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I am not going to survive this.” *******************************  
Eliot left shortly after breakfast on his self-appointed job of tailing Gerard Argent. “He’s not worried about tonight,” he’d told Quinn and Isaac. “He’s treating it like a joke, something that doesn’t affect him.” 

What Eliot didn’t bother saying, but both Quinn and Isaac understood, was that they were going to have to change the old man’s position on that. If they couldn’t get Argent to consider them a credible threat to whatever he was planning, their odds of disrupting it dropped considerably.

Isaac still had school, which left Quinn with a day of housework and research. He was raking the leaves in the front yard, when he felt the skin on the back of his neck prickle. “Don’t you have a job?” he asked, not bothering to turn and acknowledge Derek’s approach.

Derek reached around him, closing his hand over the top of Quinn’s on the handle of the rake. “You know, your pulse rate just nearly doubled, right?”

That forced Quinn to look up and meet Derek’s eyes. “I get that way around predators,” he said, still keeping his voice perfectly calm and level. Jerking free, he took a step back and squared off with his former friend. “Are you here for a reason, or are you just trying to be a pain in my ass?”

To his amazement, Derek immediately sobered. “This deal you’re trying to negotiate with the Argents – it’s going to hurt a lot of people in this town.”

_People – or werewolves?_ Quinn thought, but he didn’t say the words out loud. It had been much easier to think in terms of ‘us’ and ‘them’, when his kid brother wasn’t one of the ‘them’. “I can’t worry about that, Derek. I have to think about what’s best for Isaac.”

Derek took a step forward – Quinn managed not to match him with a step backwards only by sheer force of will. “What’s best for Isaac is to have a pack to support and protect him.”

Memories of stories Isaac had told him, and things he had learned by talking to some of the friendlier werewolves in town flooded Quinn’s thoughts, followed by a rage that burned away any lingering fear he might have of Derek, or what the Alpha werewolf might be tempted to do to him. “So says the wolf that was going to sacrifice him in order to further your own agenda. You really think I’m going to take advice on how to protect my brother from you?”

He never saw Derek move. In one breath the two of them were faced off – by the time Quinn had drawn the next one, he was on his knees with his right arm twisted up behind him and Derek molded to his back. “Maybe I should go ahead and bite you,” Derek snarled, his breath hot against the exposed skin of Quinn’s neck. “Maybe then you’ll finally get it.”

_”I could bite you…if you want. You’d be like me then. You’d be part of my family, and you’d never be alone again.”_

Quinn squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the memory of how earnest Derek had been on that fall afternoon so many years ago, and how tempted Quinn had been to say yes. “I’m sorry you’re alone, Derek. I’m sorry about what happened to your family, but you don’t make it right by tearing apart other people’s families.”

His heart was hammering painfully against his ribcage as he waited for Derek to decide what he was going to do. When he was fifteen he’d seen no other way out of his situation, and Derek’s home life was everything he’d ever cried himself to sleep wanting.

Now, though. Now he had friends, purpose and a meaning to his life – twisted though it might be. And he had Isaac. And while Derek might have a point about Isaac needing a pack, Quinn wasn’t ready to let go of the belief that he also needed what family he had left.

Abruptly, the question of his immediate future was decided. Derek released him with a shove, spilling him onto his hands and knees. “You’re still making a mistake. You can’t trust the Argents.”  
**********************************  
Eliot was furious. “That son of a bitch comes near you again, and I swear I’m giving him a wolfsbane enema.”

Quinn couldn’t help smiling at the image. “You’re supposed to be playing at being my boyfriend, Eliot, not my bodyguard. I handled it.” They were in Quinn’s bedroom while he dressed for their dinner date. Eliot was already in a perfectly tailored suit, his shoulder length hair tied back so that only a few strands framed his face. 

His expression said clearly that he wasn’t done worrying over the subject of Quinn’s encounter with Derek, but out loud he only said, “Remember, the Argents are a matriarchal family. My contacts tell me that Gerard and Chris will probably do most of the talking, but Victoria is the real power in the room.”

Quinn turned to face his full length mirror, considering what Eliot had said. “Is she susceptible to charm?” He finished buttoning his dress shirt, and considered whether or not he wanted to go with a tie.

“You mean flattery?” Eliot got to his feet and joined Quinn at the mirror. “You can try it if you want – it’ll place you in a submissive position in her world-view, which we can use to our advantage.” His nimble fingers flipped through Quinn’s selection of ties, landing on a deep royal blue silk. “We’re going to want softer colors for you then – nothing she can see as challenging.” He laid the tie against Quinn’s shirt, then nodded. “This one.”

Their fingers brushed as Quinn took the tie, and Quinn once again felt a pleasant fluttering in his stomach. He hastily forced his mind back on task, hoping that he'd caught himself quickly enough that Eliot didn’t notice. “I don’t remember you thinking about stuff like this,” he observed, settling the tie into place and mentally reviewing the steps for a proper knot. “Sophie?”

He saw Eliot grin in the mirror. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but there are so many levels to what she does. My game’s definitely gone up since working with her.”

Quinn finished settling the tie into place and turned for Eliot’s approval. The other hitter looked him over, then gave him a sharp nod of approval. “You always did clean up better than me.”

Looking at him now, Quinn was caught between the desire to preen at the obvious compliment and an impulse to accuse Eliot of pandering for a compliment in return from Quinn. “You do just fine,” he said at last. “That band of misfits you run with has been good for you.”

Eliot’s expression automatically softened. “They’re my family. Better or worse, the family I never knew I wanted.”

Quinn would later swear with everything he had in him that he never consciously decided to reach for Eliot. But suddenly, with only about a heartbeat’s worth of warning, he was stepping in on the other hitter, cradling Eliot’s face between his two hands, and leaning in to kiss him. He felt Eliot’s surprise like an electric current against his fingertips, then the hitter relaxed – hooking his hands behind Quinn’s neck, pulling him in close, and kissing him back.

“You pick the damndest time to make your moves,” Eliot murmured as their lips finally parted. His hands slid possessively along the sides of Quinn’s neck, until he was cupping the other hitter’s face between his palms. “We don’t have time to deal with this now,” he said, fixing Quinn’s gaze with his own, “but that doesn’t mean we’re not going to. You understand what I’m saying?”

Overcome with emotion, Quinn nodded as much as Eliot’s hold would allow. Eliot studied him for a long moment, then pulled him in and kissed him again.


End file.
